


No Longer

by lexiatel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Child Abuse, Darkfic, Gen, Horror, Other, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 01:08:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11002818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexiatel/pseuds/lexiatel
Summary: A Death Eater’s daughter is sorted into Hufflepuff. This can’t end well.





	1. Prologue: My Conditioning

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows the troubled but kind hearted Hufflepuff, Sullyna Carrow who has never been able to please her father. 
> 
> During the rise of the upcoming first wizard war, she decides that she no longer is going to take his abuse and is determined to do something about it.
> 
> Warnings: 
> 
> -Abuse  
> -Child Abuse  
> -Adult Language and Situations  
> -Original Characters  
> -Subliminal mentionings of sibling incest

**AN: Been wanting to create a fic where a Hufflepuff becomes a Death Eater, so this is it.**

**Please read the note at the beginning of the chapter. There are some triggers you should know about.**

 

* * *

**Prologue: My Conditioning**

 

The wail of a small child cut through the dark, silent night. My eyes flew open, and I bolted up from my sleeping, listening for it again to ensure that I hadn’t been dreaming. I scrambled out of bed upon hearing the cry a second time. 

Their room was three down from mine, and the noise increased in volume as I got nearer and nearer to the cry of my little brother. By now, in his ten months of life, I could tell his cry from his twin brother’s.

I also knew  _why_ he was crying.

Keeping the light off, as to not disturb his still sleeping brother, I hurried to Thilio’s crib and bent down, pulling him up into my arms to console his whimpers away. “Shh, it was just a nightmare,” I told him softly.

His tiny hands clamped onto my night dress, and his little body shuddered against mine. “Dookie!” he wailed.

“Sully!” the snapping sound of my aunt’s groggy voice made me jump. “One of the babies is crying!”

“Yes, I know! I've got him!” 

Newton, Thilio’s brother, stirred awake then, and he started howling unhappily from being disturbed.

“Merlin, Sully, can’t you do anything?!”

I braced myself as Aunt Alecto’s footsteps thundered down the hallway. The light flickered on, momentarily blinding me and causing Newton’s wails to louden. 

“So, you think it’s funny waking up my little boys in the middle of the night, do you?!” she demanded, full of angry steam.

“No, I —”

“Don’t you dare lie to me, girl!” she shrieked, narrowing her eyes warningly at me. “Tell me you think it’s a delightful activity keeping my heirs from their sleep! Tell me now! Do not lie!”

I glanced away from her and shook my head. “I wasn’t...”

“Put Thilio back in his crib,” she ordered, her voice climbed a few notches, losing her patience with me.

I briefly closed my eyes, silently scolding myself for just not admiting what she first wanted of me. The punishment would have most likely been less penetrating than the one I was going to have now.

“What’s she done this time, Lect?” My father stood at the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes. I glanced down and stiffened at the wand in his hand.

“Woke up our little babies, and  _then_  she lied about it!” my aunt informed shrillily. “You’ve got to do something about her, Amycus! Obviously, we’ve been slacking with her.”

“No, I was only—” 

“ _Quiet_!” my father cut me off. I met the cold, accusing look of my father’s deep green eyes and clenched my jaw tightly, blinking back tears.

“Step away from the heir, Sully,” my father commanded, gesturing me to the other side of the room— a safe distance from the babies in case his offending spell should miss its target.

“Please—”

“You heard him!” Aunt Alecto shrieked, crossing the room to me. I shrunk back with a cry as she snatched a handful of my hair and yanked me away from Thilio’s crib. The baby started screeching, not liking what was unfolding in front of him.

She effortlessly pushed me to the otherside of the room, causing me to trip over my own two feet. “No, don’t!” I pleaded helplessly. “I was only—”

My screams drowned out Thilio’s unhappy wails. In the distance, I heard my aunt cackling joyously, like some mad woman.

The burning pain ceased a few seconds later, my heart thrashed agaisnt my chest, tears cascaded down my face. My breathing was deep, as if I had just finished running laps around the large mansion I was living in.

“Shall I give you another?” my father challenged.

“No, please!” I said, shivering in fright.

“Did you wake up our heirs?” He tried pulling the ‘truth’ out of me.

“While finding it funny?!” my aunt demanded for an answer, kicking at my hip.

I groaned from the sharp pain of her assault. “Yes!” I cried out. Fresh tears flooded out of my eyes. “Yes, I did!”

“Then I suggest you beg for our forgiveness!” my father spat, and hit me again with the crutio curse. “ _Well_?!” he prompted me when he released the curse.

“I’m s-sorry!” I wailed, bunching myself tightly into a ball, knowing from experience that if my father did it again, the pain would be slightly dulled— only not enough.

“Very nice, Sully,” my father purred happily. I felt the sizzling, burning pain as if my skin was on fire once again. Even when my father was pleased by my compliance, it was never enough for him. He sought pleasure in commiting torture. In torturing _me_.

“Now, tend to the heirs,” he barked and stalked out of the room. "Lect!” he called for his sister in a low growl.

“Coming!” She smirked down at me. “Sleep well, dirty, little Sully!” 

Her cackle sent my body into a shivering fit as she joined my father into his room.

*/*

“Your daughter is starting school soon, Amycus,” The Dark Lord stated. “Have you thought of one for her to attend yet?”

Through the crack of the door, I watched my father nod. “Her mother had wanted her to go to Hogwarts.”

I held my breath at the mention of my mother. Father rarely spoke of her, unless it was to stab me with sorrow regrets of what I had done to her. 

I swiped the moisture from my eyes with the back of my hand, determined not to miss a single part of this coversation between my father and his master.

The Dark Lord leaned back in his seat, smiling at what my father had said. “It’s a fine choice, all except for the Headmaster.” His eyes darkened. “I’ll soon be fixing that slight problem, of course.”

“Oh, yes, My Lord,” my father agreed without a thought.

“And your daughter; what does she think of Hogwarts?”

“What my daughter thinks is not what matters, My Lord. It is what you think.”

The Dark Lord nodded approvingly. “Yes, my servant. I give you the permission to make the choice yourself.”

Father, who was kneeling before the Dark Lord, set his forehead in his Master’s lap. “This servant is most grateful, Master.”

The Dark Lord tapped my father’s head. “It pleases me to know I have such a loyal servant as yourself. I can only hope your daughter will be just as devoted as you have been, Amycus.” When my father said nothing to this, his Master questioned him, “Your daughter  _is_  also going to serve your Master, is she not, servant?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” my father said nervously, noticing the Dark Lord’s change in tone. “She is being quite stubborn and difficult, that is all, my Lord.” Father chuckled nervously.

“Difficult...?” the Dark Lord asked with some interest. “How difficult?”

“She is a compulsive liar, my Lord, but we are dealing it. Do not concern yourself with her. She will submit to your authority in due time,” he promised. “We will accept no other way with her.”

“Very well. You have not displeased me thus this far. I trust you are capable in dealing with such a trivial matter.”

I backed away from the door as a sudden sickness bubbled in my stomach. I had heard enough of this. 

There was no way I was going to bow down and kiss the feet of a wizard like him. If he was pleased with the things my father did— _encouraged_  them—, I did not want to become his servant. My father was a bad man, and so was his master. I knew my father hurt innocent people— innocent blood— but it had not occured to me until now that I would be expected to do the same thing also, following his footsteps.

I looked down at my skinny, pale arm. It had no marking of the Dark Lord’s as my father’s forearm did, but it did have scars from harmful curses casted upon me by my own family. By my own _blood_.

I refused to taint my soul with such horrifying deeds. I absolutely refused to.

And if being born into such a group of people had no benifets, what did? If my own people were willing to torture me just for the fun of it, what good was it when my blood was just the same as theirs, if not better? 

If blood didn’t matter to these people, nothing did.

In my young nine-year-old mind, I knew then and there that they weren’t out to keep our blood from becoming infected with Muggles. They were out for power and power alone. 

All my life, my father demanded obedience of me. The Dark Lord was the same with his servants. All they wanted was to rule, each having their own position.

They needed to be stopped. Bad people like them could not rule a world. Not a peaceful one anyway.

*/*

“Raise your wand, Sully,” Father growled threateningly.

“No!” No way was I going to do what he had just instructed of me. “I don’t want to!” My vision blurred with the tears that were filling my eyes.

I shrieked out as a curse sliced into my arm. My wand rolled from my fingers, crashing onto the floor at my feet as I clasped my hand around the fresh, wet wound that my father had given me.

“Do not defy me!” he yelled out. “Now pick up your wand or you shall get another!”

My eyes stared at the blood that gushed out from beneath my hand and dripped down to the floor at my feet. He had done worse to me for a far less ‘crime’. “I can’t, Father!” I shrieked out in plea. “Don’t make me, please!”

My body was lifted up from the ground as if it was nothing more than a feather in the wind. I screamed out as I crashed against the wall behind me and slid down the wall, crumbling up in a heap at the base of it.

My father stalked to me, anger in his steps. His breathing laboured with excitement. “Get up!”

I tried to, but I couldn’t move without hurting. The entire length of my back side ached, promising to leave behind a bruise. The sting of the bloody wound of my arm was hardly bearable, and my father made it worse by grasping onto the tender limb and pulling me up to my feet.

“Pick. Up. Your. Wand. Daughter,” his nasty voice ordered menacingly. He stepped back, giving me room to perform the task.

Gathering all my will, all of my strength, I whimpered and bent down, retrieving the wand that I had earlier lost grip of.

“Point it.” He straightened his back, squaring off his shoulders. His eyes closed as he sucked in a breath.

The wand shook at the end of my arm where it was poised in my hand. My knees wobbled. 

_How can he actually think that I can do this...?_

“What are you waiting for?!” Father snarled, his eyes still calmly closed.

“I-I can’t!” I insisted. “I’m too weak! Please!”

That’s when his eyes shot open, glowing with fury. “ _Weak_!” He laughed cruely. “I already knew this! And I’m going to change this about you, Sully! No spawn of mine is going to be considered weak! You _will_ learn this spell, Sully, and you will learn to seek  _pleasure_  in casting it!"

My lip quivered, and I shook my head in denial. “I can’t! You know I can’t!”

My father’s lip curled distastefully. With a dramatic throw of his arm, he spoke the incantation to one of his favourite spells, hastily attacking me with multiple castings of it. 

“Block my attacks, you worthless, sorry excuse of my kin!” His spells got stronger and faster with each word he spoke until finally I stumbled back, my body unable to take any more hits. I was sobbing in pain now, pleading him to stop hurting me.

He stepped up to me, purposely setting his foot on my hand, applying pressure to it, sneering when I screamed. “Do you know why I hate you, daughter?” he asked in a low, harsh voice.

“Because I killed my mother,” I answered automatically as I did every other time he had asked me this same question.

“You are _nothing_  like her,” he explained bitterly. “You are not like _her_ , not like _me_ , you’re not even like your aunt. If you didn’t have my eyes, girl, I’d think you were switched at fucking birth!”

The words stung. It was the first time I had ever been compared to my mother by my father, and to hear I was nothing like her hurt was worse than the physical pain I had just been through.

“You beg me to stop,” my father continued, “she begged me to _start_!” He smiled so widely that he showed his blackened, rotting teeth to me. “I loved her. I loved her like I could love no other. And _you_  killed her. You are lucky I didn’t kill you. But don’t believe I wouldn’t have! Cause I was going to! Oh, but our Lord, he says you are part of the future. He thinks you deserve a chance. It is he who saved you, Sully, and you _will_  prove yourself worthy to him. You will, or else—” he kicked me hard in my bruising back “—or else you will _die_.”

Days after my father had said that, his words repeated frequently in my head. I was scared that he had wanted to kill me for what I had done to my mother. I knew he had hated me, _really_  hated me. I knew he was capable of killing. I was also too scared to find out if what he had said to me was true. From what I understood, if I did not prove my usefulness (whatever that may be), I was going to be sentenced to death.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t run away, I was easily trackable with my magic— as soon as my father filed a report of my disappearance, the Ministry would only need to cast a locator spell and find me, catch me, and then take me back home.

I couldn’t expose the truth to anyone. I was barely even ten, and many people didn’t even know about the Dark Lord and his rising power, or his plans to take over the Magical World. And no one would believe a child. I’d have been admitted into St. Mungo’s mental ward before the day was over. And knowing my father, he would retrieve me back, inflicting a tormenting punishment for my ‘lying’ tongue.

So I did nothing. There was nothing I could do afterall. I was only ten-years-old.

I just had to put up with my father’s abuse long enough to make it to Hogwarts, then I’d be free, only having to see him during the holidays.

*/*

“Focus on the pain, Sully,” my aunt’s hushed voice instructed. She sat on the floor near me, and anyone who didn’t know what was going on would mistake that she was meditating. 

Well, maybe in _her_  way she was. 

Father circled around us, lightly tapping his wand to the palm of his hand. My brothers were sitting across the way, allegedly out of harms way, but they were present for a reason. Even at my young age, I knew why the were being forced to watch.

_Conditioning._

Supposedly, this was good for us (as in the two babies and I). 

I doubted as much, but I knew better than to argue.

I screeched out in pain as my father abruptly grabbed my arm and violently pressed his wand painfully to the back of my hand. He uttered a word under his breath and I watched in terror as my fingernails bent backward. I tried pulling from his grip, crying out in agony.

“Embrace the feeling, Sully,” my father told me, tightening his grasp. “Seek the pleasure it can give you.”

“Let me go!”

“It’s in your blood,” Aunt Alecto hummed out. Her eyes were closed, and her face sported a smirk across her lips. “We’ve all learned to enjoy it, haven’t we, dear?”

My father nodded. “It’s in your blood, Sully,” he repeated my aunt’s words and touched his wand to my forehead. “Once you discover its blissfulness, nothing can stop you. No one can hurt you. Do you realize how powerful that is?”

“It doesn’t stop death!” I snapped through my grit teeth and wiped my dripping nose. I shut my eyes tightly, hoping to block out the pain.

“Of course it doesn’t!" Tauntingly, my father tapped his wand to my head. “Which is why we learn to block such offensive spells!”

If I wasn’t so dizzy from the loss of blood I would have asked him how I was supposed to block the death curse, but my eyes fuzzed over with bluriness. The pain had now dulled strictly from overuse of my nerve endings.

I looked in the full-length sized mirror months later, eyeing the scars on my face, arms, back, chest, stomach, legs, feet, and hands. By now, I had changed. It had seemed like I just flipped a page of my life over night, somewhat adjusting to my father and aunt’s training methods. By now, I was used to pain. Accustomed to it. Expected it.

But I also didn’t enjoy it like they said I would. I prayed every night, every day, and every training session for it to stop. It never did, of course. They were persistent in breaking me. Was I unbreakable? Or was I eventually going to be accepting of my destiny?

But what _was_  my destiny? I certainly wasn’t up for dying early, but neither was I up for becoming a servant of the Dark Lord, where torture sessions were done often as mere entertainment.

 _And_  I didn’t want torture anyone myself.

But I would be forced to... If I were his servant. That’s what my father kept telling me. And that’s why he continued to pressure me into attacking him with curses. Harmful curses. 

He was insanely demanding that I curse him. He wanted to feel the ten seconds of pure ectasy (as he called it) in which I had the ‘power’ to give him.

“It’s in you somewhere,” he told me coaxingly. “That need to torture, to feel agony, it’s there,” he had whispered behind me, setting his hands on my shoulders. “I know it is. You only need to search for it and unleash it.”

I didn’t want to find it though. I dared not to, simply because I was beginning to believe him. I knew I’d not be able to torture another living being, but after all these months of their constant inflicting of pain and manipulation, I was beginning to wonder if it was possible— on a very slim scale— that I was finding some sort of relief in the torture that was being done to me.

 _It will certainly make things easier,_ I told myself, echoing my own father’s words.

And, as I studied each mark of abuse, torture, and pain on my youthful, innocent body in the mirror, I realized one thing:

It wasn’t the pain that was interesting to me, it was the damage it had done to me. 

It was that day that I stopped treating my sores and wounds. I found that it was useless— the next day, my father would just make new ones anyway, and some had been so damaging that they were unable to hide even with concealing spells. At least with any spells I had learned in my scarce spare time.

And it wasn’t like I wanted my father or aunt to know I was able to cast such spells. Those were complicated ones, and if I could do spells like those, I could do _more_.

I wasn’t quite ready to change cockroaches into flesh-eating bunny rabbits.

I didn't think I’d ever be ready for that.

 

* * *

 


	2. My Sorting

**My Sorting**

* * *

 

The staring eyes of the other kids who were also aboard the Hogwarts Express made me a little nervous. Some of the students were giving me curious looks (probably wondering why I looked the way I did) while others were completely repulsed by the sight of me. A few even made remarks about me:

"Good _Lord_!" a boy whispered to his friend after I had passed them. "Did you just see that girl?!"

"Hit the ugly tree one too many times," his friend replied. "Definitely gonna be Slytherin,there," he said half-jokingly.

It was saddening that even the humans my own age were so discriminating. I had known people would do this, but I had hoped that there would be some nice kids too. Even ugly people had the potential to make at least _one_ friend. I was _sure_ of it.

With a frozen smile spread across my face, I forged on, walking along the narrow path, trying to find an empty compartment to sit in.

"Ah, my apologies, miss!" a boy said, after he had abruptly plowed into me upon his exiting a compartment.

I looked up in complete shock that someone had _actually_ apologized to me for something instead of blowing up and blaming me for their troubles. Unfortunately,the feeling wore off just as quickly as it occurred. I pressed my lips together when I saw who the person was that I had bumped into and braced myself for an upcoming snarl.

"Oh, never mind," his tone instantly changed,never missing a beat. "It's just you, Carrow. I had forgotten you were attending Hogwarts this year. Hoping for Slytherin, huh? Daddy's little girl, always doing what she's told."

"Are you finished?" I asked coldly,suppressing the urge to slug him in the face.

"At least you're ugly enough for their lot," Sirius Black gave his final insult before walking around me.

"Warthog," I muttered under my breath when he was out of earshot. I had always hated that boy, having had the misfortune of seeing him occasionally when my father and aunt would accept his mother's dinner or banquet invitations.

His brother, Regulus wasn't so bad. He was a quiet, shy young man, and thus, he didn't talk much. Not like he really needed to anyway; Sirius had the tendency to speak for the both of them.

One girl with blond hair that had been pulled back into a neat, glorious bun, followed me into an empty compartment that I had entered. At first, I was a little hopeful and gave her a polite smile, but I learned quickly that she had only come to tease me, and so, I made myself comfortable next to the window, making an effort to ignore her hateful jokes. Father had done much worse to me than this immature prat could ever do. She was _n_ _othing_ to his cruelty.

I took a moment to look out the window to see if the man was even still there. I had a passing thought that he may have wished to see me off like what a normal, loving father would do, but he was nowhere in sight. I doubted that he had even waited until I was completely on the train before disapparating away. He had acted like it was the biggest bother in the world to bring me to the platform. If I had the ability, I would have just apparated myself to the school.

I usually tried not to annoy him if it were possible. He had a terrible, horrible habit of exploding like a bomb— one that could do some serious damage. Alas, I was just a first year, so I couldn't do a whole lot just yet, and I had to rely on him for transportation.

Quite useless, I was.

"Words mean nothing, Sully!" my father had snapped at me, the last words he had said to me, making me immediately say a timid, quick and near silent apology before escaping to the train in fear that he'd lose his temper again.

He hadn't accepted it, but he never ever did, so I hadn't expected him to.

"Oh, stop that!" the voice of a different girl shrieked to the first one who did not want to let up on her teasing. I had gotten lost in my thoughts and had not noticed that the compartment had extra people in it now.

I felt a hand pat my arm then. It was a friendly tap, but I jumped anyway, not at all accustomed to such a lovely touch. Usually, the only time I felt the flesh of another human being was when I was being severely punished.

"Sorry," she whispered softly. "I didn't mean to startle you. Don't you listen to her. You have very pretty hair."

I looked at the friendly girl who had been the only one to have ever said a nice thing to me. She was lying, I knew it, but it was still a lovely thing for her to do for me.

Maybe there _were_ nice people out in the world. Hope was not lost after all.

Her green eyes looked into my own green eyes. They sparkled with an emerald color. Mine were a much darker green that resembled a murky, polluted lake, but hers were enchanting, and they were the most brightest eyes that I had ever seen.

Her coppery red head was also alluring, and I could tell that it was extremely soft just by the look of it. I resisted the urge to touch it, finding myself a bit envious over the long, flowing locks.

"Isn't she pretty, Sev?" the nice girl asked, addressing a boy next to her whose nose was in a potion book that looked like it had seen better days. He didn't look in great shape himself: his shoulder length hair looked stuck together and seemed to be matted with some sort of greasy substance. He wore a pair of secondhand robes, and quite few patches were scattered along it.

"Hmm?" the boy questioned, half distractedly.

She giggled and slightly gave him a shove. "Can't you stop reading for just a minute?"

Sighing, he closed his book. "Yes, I can." He tucked his book away into his bag to prove it to her.

"Well, I happen to disagree with you," the rude girl said. "Look at that hideous mark on her face! Even if she did have pretty hair, no amount of it could make up for that scar!" She pointed at me with a sneer. "What happened to you— fall off your broom too many times?!"

I refrained from running my fingers along the scar that looked like I had just been slashed with a cutting curse. My eyes shifted back to a book I had earlier set on the table. I did not know why I had bothered grabbing that particular one; I had already read it from front to back, and even successfully cast an abundance of spells from it.

"That type of mark didn't happen from some clumsy fall," the boy announced after a quick look at my cheek.

The girl shrugged, showing how little she cared about the boy's statement.

"I'm Lily Evans," the redheaded girl introduced herself to me. She gestured toward the boy. "This is my friend,Severus Snape."

"Hello," Severus said, barely giving me glance.

I smiled slightly. "I'm Sullyna." At home, my father called me Sully for a reason, but here I could go by my full name.

"Surely you have a surname?" the rude girl asked me. "I'd like to know who sired you, I'm sure your parents are just as ugly!"

"Course I have one," I said quietly, looking away uneasily.

"So what is it then?! Are you half blood or something? Is that why you don't want to spit it?"

"There is nothing wrong with being a half blood!" Severus snarled.

The girl smirked. "It just means that you are half mud, but I suppose it's better than full mudblood, hmm?"

Lily huffed. "Well, I'm a _muggleborn_ , and I am finding you quite rude!"

"Pity," Michelle said without a note of sympathy in her voice. "Such beauty, wasted."

Severus's eyes narrowed darkly. He looked about ready to flip. His lip curled, and I'm sure that if had been an animal, he may have growled at the girl.

"The last name is Carrow," I spoke up to distract them all.

The girl's jaw dropped. "Really?" she asked, suddenly sounding friendly towards me. "Well, nice to meet you then; my name is Michelle Bobbins."

Severus snorted. "Doesn't that explain a lot about you," he drawled amusingly.

"I am a pureblood from Australia. Father moved us up here on business," Michelle continued, ignoring the insult and Severus completely. She stood up from across the way and squeezed herself between Lily and I. "We should be friends," she said to me with a sweetness to her voice.

I knew why she suddenly could over look my freakish features, and I was not about to let her get the best of me. "I'd rather not, but thank you."

Michelle looked upset for a moment. "We purebloods must stick together though!" she insisted with a cry. "You know how it is..." she whispered, thumbing to Lily.

I stood up then, sending Michelle an unimpressed look.

All I ever heard about was how pure this world must stay. How all the mudbloods should be tortured and beaten until they were dead because they deserved nothing else.

But I knew better. Growing up underneath the Carrow household roof taught me one thing: it really didn't matter at all how pure your blood was. Terrible people found any excuse to do terrible things.

I said nothing as I removed myself from the compartment, taking my things with me. I did not want to be near that girl for another moment! She'd probably end up with a fat lip if I stuck around, and I wasn't up for earning a detention before the term was even officially started!

On my way to the loo, a chubby boy dropped his wand when he saw me heading his way. His lip quivered slightly as he stood as still as he could, watching me with extreme caution.

I bent down to pick up his wand. "You dropped this, mate," I told him, giving him an encouraging smile.

He didn't accept my offering until I wiggled the item to get his attention. "Th-Thank y-you, m-miss," he said shakily, snatching his wand tightly, likely in an effort to not repeat what he had just done.

"I'm Sullyna," I introduced myself. "What's your name?"

"Peter," he said. His voice was a lot more steady now that he didn't see me as a threat.

I nodded in acknowledgment. "Nice to meet you." Then I gestured past him. "Mind if I pass through? I need to use the loo."

"Yeah, sure! Sorry!" he chuckled uneasily, flattening his tubby body against the wall as best as he could so I could get through.

"Thank you," I told him, flashing a smile. "Good luck in the sorting, Peter. Hope you get into the house you want."

"You too."

\\*/

I was mildly surprised of my sorting that night, but I quickly forgotten about it once I had made my way to the house table. A wave of awkward happiness rushed through me as many people took turns cheering and hugging me. It was so strange to have their arms wrapped around me. It was odd to see people happy that I was one of them. This was exactly what I needed in life, and I knew it; I needed people who wanted me. I could _definitely_ get used to this new feeling.

I actually hugged them back, though, I worried if I was doing it right, afraid that I had done it wrong. No one said either way.

Everyone settled down again to watch each young wizard and witch divide off into the house that suited them best. Every house welcomed each of their new housemates with opened arms.

Dinner was tasty. The surrounding company was wonderful. Everything was just great. I couldn't remember ever being so happy before in my life. It was almost like a very lovely dream, and I didn't want to wake up and have it end. I never expected that Hogwarts would be such a nice place stay at. My father and the Dark Lord had been so insistent about how great of a school it was. This didn't seem like a place that they would approve of.

When the meal was finished, the first years of my house followed a prefect named Lucy McKinder down to where we would be sleeping and spending most of our next seven years at. As we walked, we pointed at strange looking portraits and laughed at some of the more funny kids of our group who were taking turns making silly jokes.

"Alright, listen up, everyone," Lucy addressed us when we had stopped at the end of a corridor. We fell silent instantly.

She looked behind the lot of us and took her wand out from the sleeve of her robes. "Watch closely," she instructed, delicately tapping a barrow twice and then three times after a pause. The barrows shifted quietly, exposing a gap in the wall. "You'll want to always remember which barrow it is, and _never_ tap it the wrong many times. Always make sure you are only accompanied by your fellow Hufflepuffs— we've lasted many years without a member of a different house from entering, and we would like to keep that way." Lucy gave us a friendly wink and then stepped into the tunnel that the secret entrance had exposed, gesturing us to follow.

"Come along, firsties; the party's just begun!" And, as if that was a cue of words, music filled our ears.

The Hufflepuff common room was crowded with people, but as we entered into the enormous lounge, the older students parted themselves, making a path for us newcomers.

"The pledges are here!" an older boy announced merrily with a smile. He stood up on top of a table that was in the absolute center of the room with dozens of people literally surrounding him. "Now we can start the hazing!"

"Hazing?!" a boy with short, spiky black hair squeaked with wide brown eyes.

"What's a pledge?" an overly skinny girl asked. Her brunette hair had been pulled back into a single braid.

The boy who stood on the table burst out into laughter. "Only playing! Welcome to Hufflepuff, we are pleased to have you with us! I'm Kendric Vipertooth, one of your six prefects." With a motion of his hands, Lucy and four other older students stepped up to Kendric so that he could introduce them. He informed us that they were there to assist us if we needed anything.

"They can also take away points," a girl grumbled from somewhere in the crowd.

Kendric chuckled. "Yes, but only from our own house,"

"And we don't have to do it often," Lucy quickly added. "Hufflepuffs have the fewest point deductions out of everyone—"

"And we'd like to keep it that way," Kendric said firmly. "Merlin knows we'd like to win a House Championship for a change."

"Or at least avoid last place," a boy muttered bitterly.

"Now, now," a prefect by the name of Julie Quigglebot scolded teasingly. "So long as the Slytherins don't win, I don't care who wins the House cup."

"Hear, hear!" a boy agreed, lifting up a bottle of butterbeer and several others followed suit.

"Anyway," Kendric said once he had called for our attention again. "Welcome to the very best house of all!" He spread out his arms widely. "Let the party begin!"

The music's tempo picked up then, and the lights began flickering in sequence to it, flashing different colours. House elves appeared, eagerly serving snacks and magically conjuring up pitchers of pumpkin juice.

Kendric jumped off the table, calling over a specific house elf, encouraging the elf to show us her dance moves.

Flippy (that was house elf's name) blushed, but she smiled and hopped up to where Kendrik had just been standing at. She flapped her arms, threw her legs, and bobbed her head to the rhythm of the music with most of the room cheering her on. We all laughed as she just looked really cute and silly. When she finished her dance with a dramatic move, everyone applauded, and she gave a deep bow. "Flippy thanks you all!" she said happily.

"We thank you for your performance, Flips," Kendric tapped her shoulder. "Always an entertaining event!"

I grew tired shortly after that, and I was slowly becoming a bit annoyed with the noise too. The over abundance of activity was starting to give me a headache. I was not used to it.

Lucy kindly showed me to my dorm in which I was going to share with three other girls. One was already there reading. She looked up when I entered.

"Oh, please close the door!" she requested of me, wrinkling her eyebrows.

"Sure, sorry." As soon as it was closed, the music and party noise was gone. "Noiseblocker?" I questioned.

"Yes," she sighed in relief. "Thank God too!" She gave me a small smile before closing up the book that was sitting in her lap. "Juniper Henderson here," she said.

"And I'm Sullyna Carrow," I told her and sat on the bed of which my trunk had been placed at the end of. "Are you from the Muggle world?"

"Nah, but my dad's a muggle. My mum's a halfblood, but she knows loads of stuff and has taught me all sorts of things, like flying a broom! I'd like to play Quidditch. I can't wait until next year when I can play! What about you?"

"Pureblood," I answered. "My father has taught me some things too."

I wasn't about to tell her that what he taught was never going to be a subject in this school though.

"I am best at Charms, but that's also the easiest practical skill in magic, so that's really nothing to brag about."

"Yeah," she agreed and then showed me that she could light the tip of her wand. "Transfigurations is hard though, huh? I hope I can learn it alright. Mum is able to transfigure a book into a bunny. I would _love_ to be able to control a bunny!"

"That's not so hard, I don't think," I said. "Well... actually, I really don't know," I admitted after a thought.

I didn't like the advanced spells of Transfigurations much, especially when it came to conjuring things. There was a reason why I avoided the spells in that subject. The thought of flesh eating bunnies made me shudder a bit.

"Are you cold?" Juniper's voice weaseled its way into my mind. "I'm sure I could ask one of the elves to turn on the heat," she offered.

"No," I smiled. I threw myself completely onto the bed, laying down on my back, tossing away the horrid memory that had momentarily sidetracked me.

"Truthfully, I feel quite comfortable right now." With a sigh, I closed my eyes and told my new friend that I was going to sleep. I decided it was best to sleep rather than allow my thoughts to wander and make me regret the events of that day.

I knew I had fallen asleep with a smile on my face that night. How could I not? The people here were simply _amazing_. Like no one I had ever met before.

_Why is the Hufflepuff house so disliked again?_

I couldn't come up with a decent answer to that question, and honestly, I didn't care to. Hufflepuff was fabulous, and I was really thankful of the Sorting Hat.

I'd have to find it later and thank it.

\\*/

While I did enjoy a night filled with bliss as I admired being sorted into Hufflepuff (which was something that I so desperately needed in my tormented youth), the following morning made me come back down to Earth.

"Oi, Carrow!" a second year boy named Amos Diggery pointed to an owl next to my cereal bowl.

It was Father's owl, Zeamus. I held out a piece of ham for him, and he bowed his head in gratitude. The owl was a moody creature, but he and I had some sort of understanding of each other. We both were sort of neglected.Father didn't do much for Zeamus, leaving the responsibility of caring for him up to me.

Even with all that I did for the owl, he had refused to allow me to use him as my Hogwarts companion.

"No, Sully, he's _my_ owl!" Father had snapped at me when I dared to ask if I could take Zeamus with me to Hogwarts. "You're better off with a toad anyway! You're incapable of handling such an expensive creature!"

I muttered a thanks to Zeamus even though I wasn't looking forward to the blood red letter that he had delivered to me.

"What's that?" a curious boy asked.

I eyed it without speaking and unconsciously started trembling.

 _'I should have said Slytherin...!'_ I thought to myself in a sudden panic. _'I should had said Slytherin...! Why didn't I say Slytherin?! It had given me the chance to...!'_

**_/../_ **

_"Where to put you...?"_

_"Anywhere you see fit,"_ I reply.

_"Hmm... Hmm... You are such a puzzle, girl. Do you have preference?"_

_"Well... I just want some friends..."_ I say after a simple thought. _"And I could use some fun in my life..."_

 _"Ah, this is true,"_ the Sorting Hat agrees thoughtfully. _"I HAVE CHOSEN... HUFFLEPUFF!"_

Claps and cheers erupted the room, but it wasn't loud enough to cover up the quick, _"Good luck, dear child,"_ that the Hat had whispered to me.

**_/../_ **

"You know, if you don't open it, it's going to fly around you all day and nip at you," Amos warned me reasonably.

But I already knew this...

What Amos didn't understand (or know) though, was that this wasn't an ordinary Howler. No, this Howler had been cursed, and when I would open it up, something bad was going to happen to me. I didn't know exactly what, but I could feel it against my fingertips. I had been cursed many times over. Sometimes for punishments. Sometimes for experimental reasons. Sometimes done in hopes to scare the meekness out of me. But most of time it was just done for pure entertainment. I had been through so much, that I actually had the ability to sense Dark magic.

And not all curses were done with a wand.

"HUFFLEPUFF?!" my aunt's voice snarled, echoing throughout the entire Great Hall when I had finally braved to open the envelope. "YOU UNGRATEFUL, LITTLE BEAST! AFTER ALL THAT YOUR FATHER HAS DONE FOR YOU?! I ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE DIMWITTED! JUST WAIT UNTIL YOU RETURN BACK HOME, JUST YOU WAIT!"

As the letter burst up into flames, creating a tiny pile of ash, my toes began to burn with a sizzling, hot fire. I bit my lip to keep from screaming out in pain and darted up from the breakfast table, making a mad dash for the infirmary. I made a silent prayer to whomever was listening to my pleas that the mediwitch would have a cure to remove my father's Toes of Acid curse.


	3. The Father's Curse

**My Father's Curse**

"All better,dearie!" Madam Pomfrey said, after she had finished wrapping up my raw fleshed toes. The pain was gone, but they were still bleeding a good amount. She then told me that there would probably be some scarring.

_No different than any other time._

"Thanks," I mumbled, sitting up.

She eyed me with pursed lips. "That was a very nasty wound..."

"That it was," I told her with a faint smile.

"It looked like a curse to me." She gave me a moment to verify her thoughts, but I only shrugged.

"What would I know about curses." I said through a forced chuckle.

The Mediwitch sent me a stern look. "I feel that I should remind you that such magic is forbidden to be cast in Hogwarts, Miss Carrow."

She didn't think that I had cast the curse on myself, did she? I cocked my head, studying her serious look, but I couldn't read it. I frowned. "Noted," I acknowledged her statement.

She then dismissed me, instructing me to return back later that evening after dinner was finished so she could change the bandages. The Mediwitch also gave me a couple of potions for pain, should her spell wear off too soon.

"Yes,ma'am, and thank you," I said, making a hasty getaway, tucking the potions into my robes.

By now I was late for my first class,Herbology. I mumbled an apology to my Head of House, who was also the Herbology professor, and handed her my Reason of Absence slip. She gave me a sympathetic smile and told me to join my classmates.

"Over here, Sullyna!" Juniper called me over to where she stood. Lily Evans was standing at her left side and on Juniper's right were Madeline and Kate Pinfoot, our dorm mates who were twins. They would practically be identical if it weren't for their different colour eyes; Madeline had light brown eyes and Kate had aqua blue ones. They each had very long dark brown hair that almost could be black. Both were short in height and bulky with muscles. Their parents played professional Quidditch and some of their talent had rubbed off on the girls. The girls had informed Juniper and I that they used to play on a junior team as beaters before starting Hogwarts. Neither one wanted to play Quidditch in the school though. Madeline was interested in the Chess Club, and Kate was wanting to try something new. She was still trying to decide what that was.

"I got this for you." Juniper held up my book bag that I must had forgotten at the breakfast table during my moment of weakness.

"Thanks..." I said quietly, taking the bag.

"We went looking for you after you ran off," Lily spoke up from next to Juniper. "But you disappeared so fast!"

"Yeah, I _am_ known be quick," I told her with a tiny laugh.

"That Howler was something, huh?" a boy standing next to Lily addressed me. He wore glasses and had very messy hair, like he had forgotten to brush it when he had gotten up this morning. I knew only of his name, which was James Potter from being called up to the stool the night before for his sorting.

"Should have seen mine." Sirius grinned actually proud with the thought of pissing his parents off. It was something that I assumed he made a goal to do everyday. "It was just as bad, maybe even worse!"

Doubtful...

"No need to be upset over your sorting though," James said encouragingly. "Hufflepuff is better than Slytherin at least."

"I am not _upset_ with my sorting!" I snapped indignantly. How dare he insult Hufflepuff like that! "And anyway, we're better than _Gryffindor_."

James scoffed at that. "No, not better, but you make a close second." He then caught eye of my fingers. "What in the bloody hell...?!" he gasped. "What's wrong with your fingers?!"

"Gosh Potter, are you always so rude?!" Lily snapped at the same time that I tucked my hands behind my back, my eyes fell down to the table top, noticing that anyone who had heard him was trying to see what he had meant by that.

"Were you born like that?" Peter asked with a mild curiosity.

"No," Sirius answered before I had the chance. "Her fingers weren't always like that. She and her dad like to experiment new spells on each other." He gave me a look of scrutiny. "How odd that you were sorted into Hufflepuff though. I would have thought you'd be a Slytherin for sure," he mused.

"Now, now students. Pay attention, please!" Professor Sprout scolded gently before resuming her lengthy introductory lesson.

Throughout the lesson, I noticed that the Gryffindor boys (Sirius especially) spent a lot time with their eyes on me. It made me feel a bit uneasy...

Transfigurations was next. Lily's friend Severus had been sorted into Slytherin, and since he wasn't a pureblood, the first years of his house appeared to be rejecting him,which had been no surprise to me, since about all of them were pureblood or nearly.

As I sat down next to him, someone whispered, "Blood Traitor Meets Half Mud: A love story in the making." Laughter followed.

I was definitely glad I had not been sorted into Slytherin. The Hufflepuffs didn't really bother with bullying. They didn't care who you were or what you were, and I liked that about them.

I whispered a greeting to Severus who acknowledged me with a grunt before Professor McGonagall came in and did a speech on the skill she taught. Surprisingly,she had us begin casting magic after we copied down a list of safety tips.

This was an easy spell; transfiguring a match into a needle. From my abundance of spell performing, I knew the complete spell already, but I wasn't quite ready to go much further in the skill. I didn't need my father thinking I was some sort of expert in it. Which I wasn't, but if he saw that I could get top marks in it, he'd think I was.

I looked around and noticed everyone was struggling. Had they not practice enough at home? Gosh, it really wasn't that hard...

Severus was scowling at his match in frustration. I watched as his eyes darted around to his fellow housemates who were in his viewing sight. He adjusted himself up straighter with a determined look on his face. His match caught fire after another try, and Severus let out a vulgar curse under his breath. He sat in silence, not even lifting his hand to ask for another.

"Mr. Snape, what happened to your match?" Professor McGonagall eyed the pile of ash with a disapprovingly frown.

"Flared up," he grumbled, and many of the Slytherins started snickering after hearing his answer.

"Hush up now!" the teacher scolded and conjured Severus up a new match. "A little more control this time, please," she told him before moving on to the girl next to him whose match had turned a faint purple and was splattering her with ink.

"Maybe I can suggest a few tips..." I offered gently to the struggling boy next to me.

"How would you even know anything at all?" he growled. "Yours is still just a sliver of wood."

"Look at my hand as I hold my wand," I instructed with a whisper, ignoring his mild insult, knowing that he was only speaking so cross with me because he had been humiliated. "See my finger placement? With some spells, especially with Transfigurations, this is extremely important. Even a tenth of an inch off, and it's not going to work. Now watch my wand movement..." I made a tiny circle before making a straight line to the right.

His eyes did not leave my wand while I performed the spell with no trouble. He finally looked away and stared at his own wand for a few moments before attempting to copy exactly what I had done. But his match only turned black. I saw his jaw clench, the colour of his already pale fingers faded even more as the grip that he held on his wand stiffened.

"Oops, I left out a part." I remembered that I had cast the spell wordlessly. He had assumed that he needed to use the incantation that McGonagall had said during her demonstration. It was impossible to use a Russian spell with a Latin incantation though. "It's the Russian version of the spell, so the Latin incantation is not going to work with it," I explained.

Severus pursed his lips so hard that they looked a solid white. "What's the incantation then, Sullyna?" he asked under his breath,sounding seriously annoyed. I wondered if he would have hexed me right then if there had known how. I wasn't too sure either way, but I deeply admired his self control.

"Sorry," I told him meekly and glanced away from his frightening look. "It's _Perelozhit' Eto_ ," I precisely emphasized to him, just loud enough so only he could hear.

He didn't pay me much attention once he had heard the words that he needed to say. I heard him mutter the incantation under his breath, and his match changed into a needle then without any trouble. His lips spread out ever so slightly, momentarily basking in his success.

When Professor McGonagall saw what he had done, she made a big deal out of it,showing the entire class his accomplishment. Severus sent a smug grin to his housemates who wore flabbergasted looks on their faces.

I guess they couldn't believe that a "half mud" could outperform them. I had to smile myself.

"What were you cursed with anyway?" Severus asked me after the class had ended, choosing to walk with me down to the lowest floor where we would part off; he to Herbology and I to Defense.

"How do you know I was cursed?"

"You were limping slightly when you made your exit."

I gave him a thoughtful look over. No one besides Severus had noticed this, or at least commented to me about. Well, besides Madam Pomfrey herself, but if she couldn't spot a curse wound, she'd be one cruddy Mediwitch.

I checked the corridor for people, but saw that we were alone. "My dad invents curses," I informed him. "Honestly, I am not even sure if it was my aunt who cursed the howler or my dad, but it was his curse. It's called Toes of Acid, and it makes your toes burn like they have been dipped into a skin dissolving substance. Some of your skin does get eaten off too, often causing excessive bleeding."

"Often?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

I looked down at the stone flooring. "I've been cursed a few times with it. Dad uses me as a test subject for his spells when my aunt isn't around..."

I didn't dare look at Severus. He didn't react verbally, but I had noticed that his steps had slowed. We rounded a corner before he stopped suddenly. "May I see them?"

I turned to see him giving me a curious look. "See what?"

"Your feet. I'd like to see the effects of your dad's curse," Severus said simply, as if he were only asking to borrow a quill.

"They are wrapped up right now."

"You can always rewrap them." He was not going to let that stop him.

"They are a gruesome sight," I warned him warily.

"I can handle it, I just want to look at it, and I won't make fun of how they look. I swear."

"Alright..." I led him to the nearest door and unlocked it with my wand. Once inside the closed closet, I sat on the floor with him standing above me and took off my shoes, my socks, and at last the bandages. The blood had slowed, but the wounds were still seeping with it.

Severus got down onto his knees and grabbed me by an ankle, using it to twist my foot around for a better look at my entire foot. "It _is_ pretty hideous," he admitted quietly. "The curse, I mean," he quickly added. "Very interesting though."

"You think so?" I asked as I replaced the bandages and my socks and shoes. I was surprised to hear him say that.

"I'd have expected you to get offended by those words, not to get all giddy with the thought." Severus gave me a snort before smiling faintly.

"Well, I just think that some curses are fascinating."

Severus tilted his head to one side, closely eyeing me over. "You're an incredibly strange girl, Sullyna."

I followed him out of the closet, and we resumed to our walking. "Do you think being strange is bad?"

"No," he said after a moment. "Not really." And from there, we had to separate. "See you around, Sullyna."

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Sharp taught us the tickle charm. She easily had the attention of the boys as she was extremely pretty with perfect shoulder length blonde hair and beautiful baby blue eyes. She was a nice teacher too; patient and overly friendly.

"I'm going to marry her one day," a boy in my house named Seth Towers claimed.

His newly best friend, Nicky Deed, laughed. "I think she's married already, mate."

"No!" Seth appeared scandalized.

On my way to the Great Hall for lunch, Lily called for my attention, "Want to sit with Severus and I?" she asked. "We're going to have a picnic."

My eyes scanned the Hufflepuff table for Juniper, finding her absorbed in a conversation with some kid that I hadn't met from second year. Judging by her moving hands, I could tell that she was speaking about Quidditch.

I smiled at Lily. "Sure." Juniper would hardly notice my absence.

"I've already got all we need," she said, lifting up a bag.

"Alright."

"Oi, Evans!" someone hollered out to her. She instantly went still, and I realized why; James, Sirius and Peter were approaching us. I noticed a boy with sand coloured hair was lingering behind the group, a book tucked in the under pit of an arm.

"What?" Lily asked impatiently.

"Lunch just started, you can't already be finished?" James inquired.

"And why should this even matter to you?"

He shrugged. "I'm bored."

"That's too bad, Potter, but I'm not your telly," Lily said, stepping around him, walking away. I followed suit.

"What's a telly?" Peter whispered to Sirius who answered with a clueless shrug and watched Lily and James with interest.

"Come have lunch with us, Evans ," James pressed, hurrying behind us.

"I have plans already," she told him stiffly. "And even if I didn't, I wouldn't eat with _you_." She quickened her pace, and I glanced behind my shoulder to see the group of boys had halted to a stop with James looking puzzled.

"Ouch," Sirius teased James. "She told you, eh?"

"Shut it!" James snapped, turning on his heel and stalking away from us.

I met the eyes of the boy with sandy coloured hair with mine, and I give him a simple wave. He quickly returned it politely before leaving to catch up with the more outspoken Gryffindor boys.

I ran to catch up with Lily who was waiting by the doors. "I was beginning to think they had trapped you," she said.

"Nah, they're nothing."

Lily led me out by the lake under a tree where Severus was already sitting, looking out across the body of water.

"Just saw a mermaid," he informed Lily as she sat next to him, setting her bag into his lap. He immediately went digging through it.

"Really?" Lily eagerly searched the lake with her eyes and gave a small pout. "I don't see her."

"Trust me, real mermaids are nothing like what muggle fiction has made them out to be." Severus set the bag in front of him and took a bite from the chicken leg that he had pulled out of it.

"Well, sit down, Sullyna!" Lily laughed noticing that I had been standing behind them the whole time that they had been talking. "Severus told me what you did for him in Transfigurations today. That was nice of you."

"Some alternative spells are easier than the ones taught here— thanks." I took the bag that Severus held out to me. "Mostly the reason for that is because they have less wand movements to remember." I looked into the bag to see an assortment of food fit for lunch and settled on a ham sandwich. "Did he tell you about the curse too?"

"Curse?" Lily looked at her friend for an explanation.

"I didn't," Severus spoke up, taking a bite to fill his mouth. He avoided Lily's eyes, purposely chewing thoroughly.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Since _he_ isn't going to tell me, what do you mean?"

Severus cleared his throat, sending me a look with narrow, black eyes. They flickered to her for a mere split second before returning to me.

He didn't want Lily to know about my dad's curse. I wondered why not...

"I read about this curse," I began explaining to Lily. "If correctly cast upon you, you'll go bald. Depending on how strong the caster is, the victim's hair may not even be able to grow back. It has the ability to kill off the hair follicles."

"I told her that some Muggle women would be quite willing to have such a curse. For their legs, right?" Severus smoothly added in his own improvisation. "How jealous Petunia would be to learn of it, hmm?"

Lily slightly smiled at Severus' joke. "Yeah," she agreed softly. "She probably would."


End file.
